Late Night Calls
by xXxDeadEyesNekuxXx
Summary: Dave calls Karkat every Saturday, no exceptions and Karkat has no clue why but he finally puts an end to it. But he didn't expect the romantic drama to follow and turn his mundane life upside down. This is a story about crushes and how to deal with them. (Davekat), (It's better than it sounds, I swear).


You had been having a dream about some beach. It had seemed so real and you had loved every single second of it. The low breeze brushed your hair into your eyes and the cool tide lapped at your ankles. You felt pretty short and had such small hands as if you were a child. Maybe you were.

You turned around and laughed without a clear reason. Your dad was far away, lounging on a beach-towel while reading some boring old book about God knows what. It was nice here and you didn't want to leave.

An odd chiming noise interrupted the quiet and everything started to slip away. You reached towards your dad but he faded away with everything else.

You were now awake and clutching at your chest. Your hands were large again, you were a teenager. Your dad had died years ago in an accident that involved a train. With a furious growl, you grabbed the source of the chiming to find that it was your phone. Someone was calling you and it was one-twenty in the morning.

"What the fuck do you want?" You asked in what you hoped was an angry tone.

"Kar-baby-cakes, what is the meaning of life? I gotta know!" Of course, it was Dave Strider. Who else would it be at this time? He sounded drunk if his slurring was anything to go by.

"…You rang me to ask me that crap? I'm going to kick your ass on Monday."

It was so dark in your room that you had nothing to focus your eyes on. Sure, you could see some fuzzy outlines of things but nothing in particular.

"No, seriously, this is like super-dubbba-I mean duper important! John was all like, 'the meaning to life is to yolo' but I'm not even sure anymore-" You pulled the phone away from your ear so you wouldn't have to hear any more of his drunken bullshit. After counting to thirty you put it back to your ear and he was still talking. "-and like they started getting their mack on and it was so fucking gross. Threesomes are terrible because that's some Twilight shit right there. And then-"

You got comfortable and kept the phone to your ear while closing your eyes. His boring, one-sided conversation could probably put you to sleep. Hell, it was better than tirelessly willing your body to stop thinking and sleep because it never listened to you anyway.

When you were becoming drowsy, the sudden urgency in Dave's voice made you snap to attention. "Are you still there?" You made a groaning noise before replying, "Yeah, sure." Then he continued on with another round of gossip or whatever the hell. From what you could gather by all the background noise, he was still at the party.

"Why did you call me?" This is what you eventually asked because really, you needed an answer.

From what you could hear, there was silence but you think you caught a deep breath. It was hard to tell at this point because you were so sleep-deprived.

"I call you every Saturday."

Every Saturday Dave goes to a party and gets drunk then calls you at around one in the morning. Technically it is now Sunday and wow, you were too over it to get angry.

"Why?" You weren't that close to him. He had other friends and you were sure some of them were at the same party.

More silence. Then a quick reply, "'Cause why not? I always do it so… yeah." He made it sound like it was a routine he just had to follow. Whatever.

…

"Hey! HEY!"

Your eyes opened and eww, there was drool on the side of your face. You must have fallen asleep… Fuck.

"Karkat! Don't leave me!" What. The. Hell. Was. That. Supposed. To. Mean…?

"What?!"

There was a sigh of relief and you wanted to throw your phone at the fucking wall. "Good, now as I was saying-"

"I don't fucking care. Shut-up, just shut-the-hell-up and let me sleep! Is that too much to ask? You call me every weekend and I'm sick of waking up like a zombie because I had to listen to your hoof-beast-shit! Gah, fucking leave me alone!" You were cranky but had every reason to be. It was a wonder that you hadn't hung up yet.

"Karkat?" He sounded shaky and not at all like the Dave Strider you knew. He always seemed to speak in a monotone or with heavy sarcasm. "Why are you mad at me? I'm sorry, don't be angry! I don't like it when you're mad at me!" Who the hell was this idiot and what had they done with Dave? You had clearly said you wanted to sleep but no, this idiot had no damn think-pan at all. Drunk-Dave was the worst Dave. (Normal-Dave was better - not that you actually cared or anything! Heh…)

"You get this really vicious look in your eyes. I don't like it. I don't like it when you look at me like that."

You raised an eyebrow. Ok… Didn't you always look at Dave like that? Well, he deserved it for being an irritating douche-bag who acted like he was hot-shit (when he was sober that is).

"I'm hanging up." You said.

"Wh- NO! Don't!"

But Dave's pathetic drunken pleas fell on deaf ears.

"You're drunk and I need my sleep. You probably have no clue what you're even saying anyway."

"I know what I'm saying! You're not listening!"

"Pressing 'End Call' in three, two…"

"I might regret this in the morning but Karkat, I-"

Your face slamming down on your touch-screen conveniently ended the call. You had passed out from exhaustion.

(Smooth past you, smooth)

You slept in until the afternoon. Your bed was too comfy and even if you kept waking up, you willed your body to go back to sleep because damn did you need it.

Your phone rang a few times before you put it on silent and didn't mind when it started buzzing instead. Your sleepy mind had forgotten the conversation the previous night momentarily.

You moved around whenever you awoke, getting into a more comfortable position before drifting out again and then drifting back in to consciousness.

That was until there was a knock at your bedroom door. That caused you to sit straight up and feel dizzy from the sudden movement that caused blood to rush to your head.

"Karkat dear, someone's at the front door for you."

"'Kay mum."

Groaning, you pulled yourself out of your bed and onto your feet. But as you took a step forward, you felt a sudden dizziness and just stayed still until it passed. Too much movement too quickly.

Sighing to yourself, you trekked out into the hall and contemplated heading back and changing out of your pajama pants and simple sweat-shirt. But nah, why bother? Your friends wouldn't care.

Yawning loudly, you moved to the front of the house without much on your mind. Even now, your mind seemed to be stuck in your dreams.

As you put your hand on the door-knob, a sudden thought wormed its way through your foggy thoughts; what reason did anybody have to visit you on a Sunday unannounced? Well, you had ignored your phone because of sleep so… Hmm. It was probably Gamzee.

Turning the knob, you prepared yourself for dealing with the dazed juggalo but as the door opened, you felt your stomach drop. Since when did Gamzee have blond hair?

There, on your front porch, was someone who you had never expected to be there and this someone looked terrible.

Their hair was a terrible, there were dark circles under their eyes, they looked sickly and their attire was all messy…

Before you stood Dave Strider; King of all Douchebags and someone who had never, ever been to your house before yet here he was, in all his glory.

"Hey."

You rubbed your eyes before looking again. What the actual fuck?

Dave smirked but somehow it looked weak and not filled with his usual confidence. For once, he looked vulnerable and without his usual poker-face.

And then, you recalled the previous night's conversation in full. You had expected yourself to be angry and spewing out utter rage but you felt as if you couldn't. Not now, not when for once Dave looked so pitiful and defeated. But as to why Dave looked this way, you had no clue.

"I'm going to be nice and ask as kindly as I can; what the fuck do you want, Strider?" Your tone was not cruel but curious instead.

Dave frowned. It was difficult to tell what expression he was using because of his damn shades. Was he angry?

"I umm… wanted to say that I won't call your anymore. Err… yep, that's all."

But he did not move.

You took a step forward and raised your eyebrows when Dave took a step back as if on instinct. It was starting to hurt, seeing Dave like this. It was as if he was something precious to be protected, something fragile under a hard shell.

"Strider, is there anything else you wanted to say?"

"Nope…."

But still, he stayed and bit his lip. He was nervous. Dave Strider never got nervous.

Seemingly realizing that he was wasting time, he turned around. "I better umm… go, yep. I have things to do and shit, you know how it is."

Not having any of his bullshit, you persisted, "Dave, what is it you were going to tell me?"

Breathing out deeply, Dave gave out his reply in a broken tone, "I umm, kinda, maybe, perhaps, totally am… I like, love you a ton. I fell for you a while ago."

You felt weird, as if your chest had burst into flames and your cheeks were burning. No one had ever told you that before and you were sure that your eyes were opened as wide as they could go.

You watched, stunned, as Dave walked down your driveway and down the street, out of your sight.

You had no idea what to do after hearing such a startling confession so you sat on the porch and watched the cars on the street pass by your house.

On Monday morning you did not get out of bed to go to school. Your mum, luckily for you, was the kind of parent that didn't care if you took any days off, as long as you passed the grade.

So, you took Tuesday off too.

And Wednesday.

And Thursday…

Your mum made sure to check up on you on Thursday often, probably worried sick about your mental health. Not that you were overly healthy in that department because you pictured yourself as being pretty fucked up (mostly because of your periods of self-loathing that lasted for weeks).

After Dave's confession on Sunday you chose to stay away from him because how could you face him or your friends knowing what you did? You hated drama, especially the romantic kind! Hell, you still couldn't believe what he said.

But, you knew that was how he truly felt because he wouldn't lie about something like that. The thing was, you didn't know why he liked you so much. You were a piece of shit, a stain on the Earth's surface. You were unlovable.

Yet, Dave thought the opposite.

You groaned and pulled your blankets over your head as if to bury yourself in your misery. You had no idea how to deal with this situation so you were avoiding it for as long as you could.

But you still felt guilty and shitty about it.

Life sucked. You felt like crying for the first time in months.

But you didn't because that didn't make any sense. What kind of person cried over a love confession? Seriously.

Shit.

Stop.

Don't.

Cr- damnit.

On Friday morning you decided to watch the cooking show channel. Cooking shows were boring and you hated everybody on them (because they were dip-shits who never took off their rings or tied back their hair like they should) but you couldn't handle watching any other kind of TV program right now.

So you sat and watched blankly as some redheaded woman started making a pizza (whom, yes, did not tie back their hair even though they had long hair. What if they got some hair on the pizza?!).

You stopped focusing five minutes in because your eyelids kept drifting closed. The night before you had been up to four in the morning stressing over your life, school and all that. It was now seven-thirty and you felt like utter shit. But you didn't want to sleep.

…

As always it seemed, you awoke to a noise. Yes, your body had fallen asleep after you had thought about how much you didn't want to sleep.

"Sweetie, your friend is here to see you."

"Mmkay…" Your what? (Yeah you were drifting out again).

"Go on in."

It occurred to you that you were on your bedroom floor. Only now did you realize that you had fallen off of the bed.

"Bleh…" You complained. Did the woman on the TV end up finishing that pizza? Shit, you had missed it hadn't you? Oh wait, you didn't care.

Red and white sneakers came into your sight. You hadn't heard them come in. (You were so out of it).

"Umm…"

"Mmm?"

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Blarg…"

Who the fuck was disturbing you and why had your mum let them in?

You closed your eyes.

…

It was about time that you bought a new body because AGAIN, this shit had happened. Maybe you had some kind of problem to do with falling asleep? Pfft, probably not.

Your eyes opened only to see your grey roof. You could tell that you were lying on your bed and it was obvious that someone had put you there.

It didn't take a genius to work out who.

But you didn't move. You didn't want to. You also didn't want to deal with the situation that would surely happen.

"Hey, sleeping beauty."

Shit, fuck, shit.

You turned your head to the side a little. Dave was sitting on your bed and he was looking in your general direction (but it was difficult to tell because of the ever-so-obnoxious shades).

"Ready to talk now?"

He sounded calm and totally normal. But now that you knew it was a facade, you felt even more terrible because Dave probably felt worse than you. And it was all your fault for avoiding him (not that you would admit to avoiding him in particular).

He probably felt dreadful. Because you were a selfish piece of shit who only cared about yourself. Why did you even have friends? You didn't deserve them.

"Sure." Nope.

Dave sighed and took off his shades.

Ugly, dark rings were under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well. And it was all because of you.

He folded them up and placed them down onto your bed.

You raised an eyebrow. What had even been the point of that?

You and he simply looked at each-other for a minute. But then Dave laughed a little but it sounded strangled and as if he would sob.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

He grinned and shook his head. "You didn't even react to my eyes. You don't even care."

"Err, is it insulting if I don't? I don't see why I would ask about them?"

His grin remained. But tears were collecting in his eyes, ready to fall. "Everyone asks, everyone pries… Except you, Kar-kitty."

Because why would you pry if someone was unwilling to talk about something? It had become obvious time upon time that Dave avoided talking about his eyes or why he wore shades. You had gotten the hint early on.

"You've always been like that. I can just be my-ever-so-fabulous self around you and you wouldn't even bat an eye. You're just so… much cooler than I could ever be. I wish I could be like you."

"But I'm a piece of shit." You blurted. "Especially to you."

He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm the piece of shit who always riles you up. All your reactions to that are justifiable I guess. I suck."

You were about to argue back but he cut in, "I guess we're ignoring the actual thing we're supposed to be talking about. It's time for a feelings-jam, yo."

"Fuck." As if the universe would let you off that easy. "I'm fucking sorry for not showing up at school, seriously. I just…"

"You what?"

"No-one's ever confessed their love to me before. It made me feel-"

"Disgusted?"

"-weird."

Dave looked surprised. "What. Seriously?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up in utter embarrassment. Confessing it didn't make you feel any better though and you hoped he would chew you out for it. Why couldn't he see what an utterly terrible person you were?

"Seriously, I was not expecting it. And it be you of all people to say it… My brain has trouble comprehending it."

"Do you really hate me that much?"

With an annoyed grumble, you put your hand on one of his.

"Jesus Christ, no! You're a total tool, sure but I don't hate you."

His lips twitched.

"I umm…" He sighed. "I kinda thought you did which made things considerably worse. Like, it was already enough that I loved a crabby an' cute lil' guy but I was so convinced that you just flat-out hated me. Errr… it was worse when I was drunk 'cause I would feel pretty upset about it. Sometimes I drank and still do drink when I feel sad about it."

Great, now you felt even worse!

"Dave… how long have you liked me for? Be honest."

He bit his lip and looked down at your hand on his. "Since, umm, the start of high school."

What the actual fuck? This poor fool had liked you for around three years and managed to keep it a secret? Wow, just wow.

"That long, seriously?"

Dave nodded and smiled weakly. "It's not like I can control who I've got the hots for. Nobody can. But it would have made my life easier."

You felt partly responsible for Dave's weekly drinking problem. It was possible that he was the kind of guy who drank his sorrows away. But you didn't ask. You didn't want to know.

What a poor idiot he was to fall for you. He must have the worst luck ever.

"Why me?" Shit, shit, shit! Here comes the water-works!

Raising an eyebrow, he looked surprised. "What, seriously dude? You're God-damn great."

Tears were sluggishly pouring down your cheeks and although annoying, you didn't bother to do anything about them.

"Shit, don't cry!"

The concern in his voice made your heart ache. He didn't deserve to be cursed with liking you or even knowing you.

Wordlessly, he reached towards your face with his free hand and started clearing away the tears for you. He did it slowly and gently. You couldn't help but calm down at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your face.

"You're not afraid to speak your mind, for one thing." Dave said, as he continued his task. "And despite how you act, you have so many friends. Plus it's obvious that you care about them and always have their best interests in mind." You couldn't deny that. "You've kept Terezi, Vriska and even Gamzee out of trouble loads of times when they've flown off the handle."

That was also true. You were like a peace-keeper of sorts that always had to struggle keeping your idiot friends out of stupid shit (like that time that Vriska had tried to sabotage the teacher's lounge with stink-bombs because she had gotten bad grades one term).

"Plus, you make up the best swears when you're mad."

It's not like you could help it! 'Normal' swears just never seemed to get your point across. Why call someone a dick-head when you could call them a blithering bulge-licker instead?

"But even when you're furious, you would still be reasonably kind to your friends, even if they were the ones to cause you to get you to get your rage on. You also never make fun of someone if they would be torn-up about it."

"Ok, ok." You butted in, sniffling. "You can stop now. I get it."

"And you're kinda cute when you're angry-"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Dave laughed and stopped clearing away your tears. But his fingertips remained on your cheek and he made no sign of pulling away.

You frowned but did not argue. This was kind of nice. You actually felt good for once, after Dave said all those positive things about you. But there was still a lot you hated about yourself. It was still nice knowing that someone thought you were great.

"Shit, sorry." He started withdrawing his hand but you grabbed it with your free hand and held it with yours.

Dave's face reddened and his embarrassment was much easier to read with his shades off.

"It's fine."

But he looked nervous and even a little sad. "I've, err, thought about holding your hand a lot." He confessed. "Is it weird that I've thought about that more than kissing you?"

Not at all. "That's actually weirdly sweet."

"Oh shit, you make me sound like some hopeless romantic."

"Aren't you?"

He laughed and nodded. "Maybe a lil' bit."

You felt kind of like you were floating and that your heart was all fuzzy. It was strange but not a negative thing. Maybe dating Dave wouldn't be so bad? He seemed to think you were amazing and he understood you. Maybe he understood you better than everybody else. And you knew he wouldn't force anything on you.

But what if, along the road, things went down-hill? Then he would be out of your life forever. And you didn't want that.

But… wasn't taking a chance worth it? You liked him, even if you weren't sure if it was love. Plus, you could take things slow.

"Dave,"

"Yeah?"

"Let's be boyfriends." God, you were sure your face looked like a tomato.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few seconds before his face broke out into a heart-warming grin. "Wow, really?"

"Yes! Are you deaf from all your shitty beat-boxing that you do?"

"Oi, I rap you uncultured swine."

You laughed but did not grace him with an answer. Instead, you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before drawing back to see his reaction.

He was on a whole different level of red. His blushing could beat yours any day.

"How come you're better at this stuff than me? What the shit?"

"Wah-wah, the world just isn't fair."

"You're an asshole."

"That's good because you're in insufferable prick."

"And you're the lucky guy whose dating said prick."

"That I am."

Days passed which turned into weeks –months even. Basically a shit-ton of time passed but you and Dave stayed together and turned out to be close to inseparable. Sure, you had some arguments with him but nothing major, just over little things (like that his taste in music and movies was shit "Romcoms fucking suck, Karcrab. You need more cheesy ninja movies in your life.")

Late one Saturday night, your phone's ringing woke you up. With a growl, you answered it.

"I love you."

"Mmm-hmmmm."

"You're the light of my life, baby."

"Gonna fucking murder your ass."

"Now why would you kill such a fine piece of ass anyway? My ass is a rare treasure that will one day be encased in gold and put in a museum of fine art. People will flock from every country just to get a glimpse of my fine cheeks, rumored to be carved by angels. 'The Finest Rump in all of the Universe' will be its title and even aliens from the darkest depths of the galaxy will know of it and-"

You hung up and rolled over.

And then you slapped Dave on the mouth and left your hand there because you couldn't be bothered to move.

Dave's mirth was muffled and he put his phone down on his night-stand. With ease, he moved your hand off of his mouth and drew you into a one-sided hug.

You thought about head-butting him but it wasn't worth the effort.

"I love you a lot." He said sincerely.

"I love you when you're not an ass."

"What is it with your fascination with my glorious rump?"

"Your ass is non-existent. It is not, in any way, glorious."

"So you admit that you do look at it?"

You snorted and closed your eyes.

You did not have any trouble falling asleep that night because there were no bad thoughts to plague your mind.

With Dave keeping you company, you could deal with your problems better. He made you feel like you had been missing out on something your whole life until you found out what true love was, from him.

And you hoped that others that had been alone most of their lives would experience the same thing you had.

 **A/N:**

 **You have no idea how long this took to write but yay, finally it's done. I think I'm slowly getting back into Homestuck so perhaps expect more Davekat fanfics from me?**

 **I just gotta go back and read bits of the webcomic again so I remember the plot, character personalities and shiz. It's been a while.**


End file.
